through green-colored glasses
by onnagakusei
Summary: Bruce is beyond tired of living with a monster. Then he looks a little harder and sees something else.
1. A Surprising Conversation

If you'd asked Bruce about the hulk when he first arrived at Stark Tower, he'd have told you the same things most other people would: the hulk is a monster, full of rage. A dumb beast of destruction and the worst thing that ever happened to him. He really believed it. Bruce was tired of waking up under the sky, nude and with a sort of mental bruise aching in his skull. Tired of having to watch the news to fill in the lost time in his memory. Tired of the guilt, and the shame, and the tight leash he had to keep himself on.

But then something changed: he remembered. A little bit, anyway.

Looking back, he thought he knew why. He had lost control in front of people he knew before, people he loved more than this Black Widow he'd just met. The transformation was painful, like it always was back then, the hulk ripping his way out of Bruce's helpless body. But there was a moment. As Bruce clung to the shreds of himself, a second away from losing his grip, he looked back at Natasha. The terror in her eyes looked wrong on her usually stoic face. He wished he could apologize. She didn't deserve this; no one did. And then she whispered his name, and the hulk took over.

When Bruce woke in the rubble, he didn't know how he'd gotten there. He didn't know if he'd wrecked the helicarrier or if he'd killed Natasha. But he remembered those first few seconds after the change. How the hulk looked around for the threat, how he shook with anger. The strangest thing was a sense of… defensiveness? Bruce had always believed the hulk wanted nothing but to destroy anything in his path. Yet, he wondered. After all, every transformation was triggered by some perceived danger, whether it was someone getting up in Bruce's face or bombs exploding all around him. And so he wondered.

He had a lot of time to think as he puttered steadily onwards on his borrowed motorbike. Bruce could feel the hulk inside him, restless, as if he were pacing in circles in Bruce's head. The hulk's constant low growl no longer grated on his nerves, not after hearing it every day for years. In the middle of nowhere, alone on a back road, Bruce decided it was as good an opportunity as any to try something new. _I'm a scientist_ , he told himself, _I'm_ _ **supposed**_ _to do experiments_.

 _Besides. It's not like I have anything to lose._ With that, Bruce concentrated – and reached his consciousness out towards the hulk.

Only to recoil immediately as he felt the hulk take notice. Bruce let out his breath in a rush and gripped the handlebars harder. "Easy, Banner," he coached himself. "Just try not to provoke him." He probed around again, hesitantly. He could feel the hulk's wariness, and it struck him just how cautious the beast seemed to be. Trying to project a sense of calm – he'd certainly had enough practice with meditation and control – Bruce focused on his breathing and let the hulk slowly draw closer. A wordless question fills his mind. _That wasn't me_ , he thought. … _Hulk? Can you hear me?_

There was only silence. Bruce jolted when he realized the ever-present growl was missing. But he could sense no aggression, which was more than he ever really expected, so he tried again. _Hulk? It's.. it's Bruce._ He felt a little stupid, but then, his radiation didn't come with a manual on "How to Talk to Your Inner Green Rage Monster".

 **Banner.**

Bruce tried not to fall off the bike. _Hulk?_

 **Puny Banner.**

Bruce frowned but didn't argue. _Can you understand me?_

No response.

Somewhat at a loss for where to take the conversation – and frankly quite shocked there was enough interaction to even call it a conversation – Bruce paused. Clearly the hulk had more intelligence than previously anticipated, if he could speak. _Thought all you did was roar_ , Bruce thought absentmindedly.

A growl resonated through his head.

 _Sorry, sorry – wait. Was that.. was that a joke?_ Bruce gaped to himself for a moment before shaking his head firmly. "He probably doesn't really know what you're saying." Unbidden, a news segment came to mind: an interview with a certain General Ross.

" _The hulk is a danger to the public," Ross had said, glaring into the camera. "It doesn't think like regular people do, in fact our experts say it likely isn't capable of even forming conscious thoughts."_ The general's face hardened further. _"All it wants is to kill."_

Bruce was shaken out of his memory by an ear splitting roar. "Ouch, okay, sorry!" he winced, yelping aloud. "So you can think! I get it! Calm down!" The noise subsided reluctantly into a familiar and tolerable growl. Bruce could feel the hulk's irritation but was grateful for the respite. _Since when do you listen to me?_ Bruce asked rhetorically.

The hulk snorted.

 _Yeah, okay. You don't._ Bruce heaved a sigh, suddenly exhausted. "You know, if you did listen to me more often," he mumbled, "there'd be fewer people dead and more cities still standing."

 **Hulk protect.**

Bruce frowned. _Protect what?_

 **Banner puny. Hulk protect.**

"I'm not that puny," he grumbled, not sure what else to say. He drove in silence for a few miles, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. Despite the peaceful scenery, Bruce felt on edge – weirdly enough, from the quiet in his head. The hulk was still pacing, but he seemed to radiate less impatience than usual.

Trying new things was hard. Especially when new things were confronting your fears and engaging the angry hulk in your head. Not to mention vastly editing your understanding of your resident green guy.

Bruce tried to distract himself with planning. Hopefully he'd reach a town soon where he could refuel, maybe a bench where he could grab an hour of sleep. _Too bad your strength doesn't help me now,_ he thought tiredly.

The hulk had nothing to say to that, apparently.


	2. Seeing Things a Little Differently

After filling up his bike's tank and choking down a disappointing sandwich from the gas station mini mart, Bruce elected to skip the nap. The town had pretty much just been the gas station, and he didn't feel like stretching out by the side of the road - for the sake of his back and any unsuspecting muggers.

He shook his head as he swung a leg over the bike. _Still not used to me being the dangerous one, hulk._

An almost smug growl echoed in his head, the hulk's first sign of life in over an hour.

Bruce started up the engine. _Can you always hear what I'm thinking?_ he asked, not expecting much of an answer.

 **No?** the hulk responded, a surprising uncertainty in his "voice".

"Huh." Bruce frowned. _Can you explain?_ He drove onward for several minutes, his practiced patience serving him well. He tried to focus on getting re-accustomed to the silence in his head, but he could tell that the hulk was thinking, and it was an odd sensation. Like a breeze stirring in a gentle cyclone in the back of his skull. Bruce very carefully did not think about the fact that he'd never felt this before. (Not the hulk's fault that no one ever engaged him intellectually.)

An old truck appeared on the horizon, approaching in the oncoming lane. Bruce kept an eye on the car as it quickly grew closer. He heard the crackle of radio music for a split second when it passed, and then it was gone. Bruce hated being paranoid, but these days it was a survival trait - if not for him, then for those around him.

The hulk finally spoke up with surprising eloquence - but then, everything about the hulk was surprising Bruce today. **All time, hear Banner feelings. No time, hear Banner words in head.**

Bruce considered this. _So you can always feel what I'm feeling, but you can't hear my thoughts - until today?_

 **Not Banner thought. Banner talk to hulk.**

 _Alright, so you can hear me when I'm trying to talk to you._

 **Only now.**

 _Yeah_ , Bruce agreed, maybe a little bit guiltily. _I haven't tried to talk to you before._

 **Why?**

And wasn't that a great question. The feeling of guilt grew with that one word, spoken as if by a neglected child.

As a scientist - as a genius - Bruce understood the importance of skepticism, of looking for complete proof before accepting something as fact. But as a person, as the victim of a laboratory accident and a sudden outcast in society, he had allowed himself to believe what everyone else did. And now? His mind dusted off a memory of his middle school chemistry teacher, long since forgotten about.

"Even the smartest people can be wrong," Mr. Ekerstein had said mid-lesson one day. "The best people are those who keep their minds open to new possibilities." He tapped at his balding head and widened his eyes at his students. "And those who are capable of admitting when they were wrong."

So rather than tell the hulk he didn't know, Bruce found himself telling the truth. _I didn't even know we could talk, or that you would answer. But more than that.. I was afraid. And angry at you._

 **Banner not like hulk.** He sounded matter-of-fact, clearly aware of Bruce's negative feelings. **Why?**

No one had ever felt the need to ask for clarification on that before. Everyone just sort of took it for granted that Bruce would despise the hulk for destroying his life - Bruce had certainly taken it as a given. But he gave it some thought now. He could be very honest in his analysis of himself, if he tried.

 _The world thinks you're dangerous_ , Bruce began. _When you come out, you break things and sometimes hurt people._ He paused, but the hulk seemed to be waiting for more.

 _No one wanted to work with me anymore. Some people wanted to use me, use you, as a weapon, and I had to run from them._ Then, with a deep breath, Bruce finally put to words the worst part.

 _I lost my friends. My family. My fiancee. They were afraid of you, and so they were afraid of me. And I was afraid of me too._

He fell silent, lost in the memories flooding back to him. Betty's tear-streaked face as she said she couldn't do it anymore. Uncle Jerry suggesting he turn himself in to the United States government, nervous eyes looking anywhere but at Bruce. The gleam of the gun in his hands and the taste of metal in his mouth.

 **Banner shoot?** the hulk interrupted Bruce's trip to the past.

 _What?_

 **Gun in mouth. Was Banner?**

 _Oh. Yeah, that.. that was me_ , Bruce thought with a sad twist of his lips. He started as the hulk let out a growl.

 **Banner sad, shoot Banner, hulk protect.**

 _Yes. You didn't let me die._ He restrained himself from thinking that, at the time, he'd wished the hulk had allowed it.

 **Hulk stop bullet. Hulk not stop sad.**

 _I guess you can't protect me from everything_ , Bruce told him. He was a little touched that the hulk seemed to wish he could.

 **Hulk sorry smashed buildings. Look for who shoot Banner.**

 _You were trying to find who'd shot me?_

There came an affirmative grunt.

 _But - didn't you know it was me?_

 **What Hulk say.**

 _Right, okay. So you didn't know, because you can't tell what I'm thinking. And I guess you can't see what I'm seeing, either, huh._

Another grunt.

 _You must have seen that memory just now, though._

 **Yes.**

Bruce thought for a moment, searching for something slightly more positive than his attempted.. sacrifice. _Okay, I'm going to try something_ , he told the hulk. Then he picked out the memory in his head and focused on keeping his mind open. He could feel the hulk studying it.

 **Who?**

 _Stark. Tony Stark - or, Iron Man. That's him offering me blueberries._

 **Friend?**

 _Uh, no. Not really? He did treat me as a scientist first, which was nice. He's kind of a jerk, but he's a jerk to everyone, so I guess it's nothing personal._ Bruce could sense the hulk had a question before he asked.

 **Where?**

 _That was on the SHIELD helicarrier - the last time you, uh, came out._

Predictably, the hulk growled at this news. **Banner hurt. Hulk protect.**

Instead of answering, Bruce shared the memory of the explosion and his fall. _We were attacked,_ he tried to explain. _Natasha and I fell..._ Struggling to calm his worry and guilt, Bruce focused on Natasha's pale face in his memory. _This is Natasha Romanov, or Black Widow. Do you remember her?_

Bruce could feel the hulk's disapproval, but there's something else too. Confusion?

 **What that?**

 _What's what? It's Natasha, hulk._

 **Hulk know. She there. Hair not look bright when hulk there.**

 _Her.. hair looks different than you remember?_

 **Look brown.**

 _She's a redhead - her hair is red._ Bruce imagined a bright red fire hydrant, the first thing that came to mind. _Like this._

 **Red?**

Bruce frowned. _If you can't see red.. you might have some sort of color blindness. Let's come back to that later - I want to talk about that time with Natasha._

 **She hurt Banner?**

The fact that he phrased it as a question told Bruce that the hulk was rearranging his worldview as well; the hulk was refraining from jumping to his usual assumption that the world was out to hurt Bruce Banner (which, admittedly, wasn't that far off the mark). _No, hulk. She and I were both hurt by the explosion. She tried to help me._

The hulk said nothing.

 _Did you - do you - what happened? I don't remember anything after the fall. Can you tell me?_ Bruce asked calmly, hiding the strain in his "voice".

A pause. **Hulk show.**

 _Show? Oh! Wait, hold on. Let me pull over._ Bruce hadn't seen anyone else on the road since the truck, but he turned on his signal anyway before pulling onto the shoulder. "Old habits die hard," he murmured to himself. Bruce planted his feet on the ground and stood to stretch his legs.

 _Okay, hulk._ He braced himself, closing his eyes and hoping this memory wouldn't involve watching people die.

 _Show me._


	3. A Fresh Start

Her face fades in and out of view. It takes Bruce a moment to recognize her without the gleaming red of her hair. A voice is echoing in the cramped space: _**"Your life?"**_ It sounds tinny and frustrated. Something within boils over and his body begins to grow. His last coherent thought as Bruce is that everything has a sort of brown and green tint. Then there is only one body, one consciousness. The memory is enveloping. There is only The Hulk.

It feels like ripping out of a straitjacket - freeing and yet disorienting to suddenly have the freedom to stretch his limbs. He staggers, catching himself and crushing a container in the process. Satisfaction feeds his anger. More destruction is needed. Banner was hurt; time to hurt back. A slight noise behind him, and the hunt begins.

Time blurs in battle. He roars his rage, throws his fists, loses himself in the only world he knows. An opponent appears who is less weak than the others. Finally, a challenge. Later a persistent peppering of tiny objects into his back draws his attention. Then, in the middle of dismantling the annoying metal bird, his vision blacks out abruptly.

Heart beating rapidly, Bruce jerks back into awareness just as suddenly. He first glances at the sky and is mildly surprised to find that no time seems to have passed. He sucks in a few breaths and makes an attempt to slow his heart rate. The hulk seems to be waiting patiently for his response, unruffled by Bruce's adrenaline-high system. _Already we're understanding each other better_ , Bruce thinks to himself with the barest hint of hysteria. _He knows I'm-we're-not in danger. This is good. This is good._

He continues reassuring himself until his breathing evens out, mind whirring as he analyzes what he just experienced. _Possible Deuteranomalous colorblindness, clear motivation of perceived revenge for violence. Isn't aware of my experiences of the world, makes assumptions based on limited perspective. Protective towards me..?_

 _Thanks for showing me_ , Bruce eventually thinks to the hulk. He pauses, not sure what else to say. In return he receives an odd sensation, like a telepathic nod. He supposes that's the hulk's way of saying, "Of course, it was no problem."

Giving up on communication for the time being, Bruce swings a leg back over his motorcycle and slowly edges back onto the road. The next few miles pass without a single change in landscape or sign of life, but Bruce makes an effort to open his mind and share his senses with the hulk. He can feel the hulk watching, drinking in the outside world with rare (for the hulk) peacefulness. Bruce spends the time pondering his shifting understanding of the being trapped within him, and every once in awhile he performs a mental check to be sure he hasn't automatically closed the hulk off again.

 **What Banner doing?** the hulk eventually asks during one of these checkins.

 _I feel bad for keeping you in isolation for so long_ , Bruce replies honestly. _I thought it might be good for you to see the world from my view._ He hesitates, then adds, _Not everyone is our enemy. And I used to think... well, I used to think_ _ **I**_ _was everyone's enemy. But I'm starting to believe I can still do something useful for this world. And so can you._

The hulk doesn't seem to know what to say to this, but he gives a rumble to show he understands and then settles back to watch the road. Bruce nods to himself a bit, repeating his words to himself. _We can do some good. The hulk and me. Just need to stay open to new possibilities._

And with that settled, Bruce allows himself a small smile. _New York, here we come._

* * *

 _End note: Thanks for reading. This was just a short reflection, but is this sort of thing worth exploring in another fic?_


End file.
